


And That Was All

by LittleRedRidingTheWolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, F/M, M/M, POV Third Person Omniscient
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 06:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4293447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRedRidingTheWolf/pseuds/LittleRedRidingTheWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These men met three times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And That Was All

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!!! I just started my account and it's my first work here. So please be gentle with me. But I also want your opinions and to be truthful. 
> 
> So this work is an old idea I had and I really wanted to do something with it. It was beta'd by friend, so I wasn't the only one to work on it. Say thanks to her, because she corrected my stupid mistakes.
> 
> Enjoy!

Once, there was this boy, well he looked like a man and sometimes felt like one, but he was technically a boy. This boy was tall and lanky, with moles all over his body, like constellations. This boy was kind and good-hearted to those he loved truly, but he was also cold and cruel to those who hurt the ones he loved. These chosen ones were special and of not many kind. He had a too gentle best friend with tendencies to forget people and things that didn’t matter to him. But he also had a good heart and a love for animals. This boy had a father, a great one with noble and realistic goals for the people of his town, which he was wholeheartedly trying to protect. This boy also had the mother of his best friend, who has cared for him since his own mother had passed away. This woman was righteous and loving.

This boy didn’t trust a lot of people, only the chosen ones could truly see beyond his mean exterior. But once they had gotten through, he was willing to die for them, repeatedly if need be. You see, this boy, when he was still just a boy and nothing like a man, had lost too much. He had seen a mother, a loving and loved mother, fade and die. A disease, a cruel one, had attacked her brain, and she had stopped being who she was meant to be. This boy, at that time just a little boy, saw his mother go mad because of hallucinations, sleep deprivation, and anger. This mother wasn’t a loving mother anymore, but she was still loved. It was too much to take in for a little 8 years old boy. 

Once, there was a man, he was tall and dark, with cold and clear eyes. He still had the simple heart of a child, easily frightened, and hurt. He didn’t trust anyone because he had trusted once when he shouldn’t have. When he was barely a man, he knew a woman who took his breath away. She was strong, fierce, and alluring. She guided him into a trap to steal away his family. Locked up, unable to escape, they were almost all burned to death; a sister remained and a catatonic uncle. The only person this man loves and trusts was (Changement de temps de verbes??) that sister. That sister was tall and not so dark, with clear and fresh eyes. She had a powerful personality, and she was all that he had left.

This man liked to lurk and hide in corners, observing and learning all he can about people around him, calculating threats. So, this man didn’t trust and didn’t ask for help. He simply suffered and endured. This was who he was now, as a man burned as a boy.

These men met three times.

\--

The first time, the boy had just reached adulthood and the man had long crossed its barrier. The boy was late and running towards the subway station, he was new in the city and he had to get to his college to meet with a teacher about an upcoming project. The man was slowly going up the stairs of the subway station, dragging his feet, and dreading his return home. He had a sister to face, an angry sister, since he had not yet broken up with his wife. The man had been married to a woman, a high school teacher with brown hair, for two years at the time. She was cheating on him and he knew it, but he did not care. There had been no love in their couple too long enough for him to care. But the sister cared, because she cared about her brother and his habit of punishing himself.

So the boy was late and running and the man was dreading and dragging himself. A corner was turned with arms strewn about and a collision happened. The boy with wide and brown eyes encountered the empty eyes of the man. Fast thoughts crossed their minds such as “handsomeness” and “sculpted beard”, “large shoulders” and “plump mouth”. Fast words left the mouth of the boy, not reaching the mind of the man, still on the thought of “plump mouth”. Hands waved in the air in an apologetic manner, and the boy was gone, only the sound of his shoes hitting stairs, and the thought of “long fingers” in the man’s mind. And that was it.

\--

The second time, the boy was waiting in line in his favourite coffee shop. It was the end of his semester, and he was celebrating his good grades with a well-earned fancy coffee. He was talking animatedly on the phone with his best friend about his finals. The man was entering the coffee shop, grabbing a quick coffee before meeting with an important client for his firm. This client had been going back and forth between signing a contract with them for some time, and the man was hoping to finally seal the deal.

The boy laughed, nothing loud and outrageous, but something truly happy. The man was attracted by that clear sound, and his eyes landed on the boy. Thoughts like “plump mouth”, “moles” and “doe eyes” crossed his mind. So the man observed the boy while he was talking on the phone with his best friend. He watched him open his whole mouth on a deep laugh and scratch his fingers on the side of his jaw. He watched him jump from foot to foot while he was waiting for his order. He listened to the sound of his voice and the rumble of its depth while they crossed each other when the boy was exiting the building. The boy smiled at the man, because the man was watching the boy walk pass him, and the boy thought things like “clear eyes” and “stubble burn”. The last thing the man heard was a laugh mixed with the chimes of the door. And that was it.

\--

The third time, they bumped in the street, the boy was crying and the man was angry. It was the anniversary of the boy’s mother’s death. Her ghost was floating everywhere in the boy’s world. She was dancing in the kitchen in the morning, she was smiling coldly at him when he left for work, and she was screaming hateful words when he left at the end of the day. The boy was crying because his mother died, and he thought she had died hating him. The boy was crying because he had just seen his father drinking, half the bottle already gone. The boy was crying because he was hiding from a father he was scared would hate him too.

The man was angry because his sister had pushed him too far again. She had mentioned their dead parents and how it was not what they would have wanted for him. The man was angry because he knew she was right, and he felt like a failure. Though, sadness was not a feeling he knew how to deal with, so he turned to anger, that he knew plenty. 

The man was sitting on a bench, fuming and looking around, observing, trying to think of things he did not know about, trying to forget about the ones he knew. He ended up watching the boy who was sitting inside a diner. The boy was crying and the man didn’t know why, but he recognized him with thoughts of moles, a plump mouth, and long fingers. So he spent a long time watching the boy, and tracing the moles in his head, mapping them out, and wondering how much they clustered his entire body. He thought about the mouth and watched it wrap around fries, imagining it wrapped around himself. He watched the long fingers move and tried to feel them on his skin and around his wrists. He watched the boy until the boy watched him back. Their eyes kept meeting, and the boy kept thinking about the clear eyes piercing through his soul from on top of him. He thought about the strong arms wrapped around him and pining him down. He thought about the beard burning his skin and leaving traces everywhere. He thought about comfort and warmth.

At that moment, the boy’s phone rang, and it was the mother of his best friend, telling him his father was worried about him, but that he had fallen asleep. It was the mother of his best friend trying to tell him to come home. The man watched the boy gather his things and leave, thinking he would certainly meet him again. And that was it.

\--

You see, if these two men had met differently, and had had time to learn about each other, something great would’ve had happen. This boy wants to love, a lot. He has a lot of feelings that he wants to distribute, and real love is still trapped inside him. This boy has hard edges, but he is always willing to help others if the chosen ones aren’t in danger. This man wants to be loved, but he will need a lot of convincing, because he is hurt, and doesn’t believe he deserves happiness, the happiness the boy would so stubbornly try to provide him.

You see, these two men never met again, and sadly we all know that they were meant for each other, but life is cruel and they only passed by each other three times. And that was all.


End file.
